The Hand that Rocks the Cradle
by wontgrowsup32
Summary: Research shows that most people's personalities are fully developed by age 6. It got me to thinking. What would a day in the life of our pretty little Twilight toddlers be like? Rated for language and that's it.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This is the first of future chapters that all describe a different day in our beloved characters' childhoods. All chapters are going to be done in the point of view of someone observing that character's day, not the character itself. Wow. That was a very convoluted sentence. Whatever. Read it and you'll get it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Stop rubbing it in.**

"What's your name?" We started out with all of the patients this way. It wasn't that I didn't know her name - of course I did. The real question was if _she_ knew her name or not.

"What's. Your. Name?" I said each word distinctly as I could, but the girl just stared. Her stare was so odd. I could see that her eyes were pointed in my direction and that I should have been in her line of sight, but it was like I wasn't standing in front of her. It was as though there was nothing before her at all.

"Do you know where you are?"

Her eyelids fluttered shut once, but otherwise made no move to answer.

"Do you know who I am?"

Nothing. No response. Exasperated, I decided to go through the rest of the "examination" quickly so I could leave as soon as possible. The thirst was starting to get uncomfortable and I knew James would be getting impatient.

"I don't understand you," she finally answered a few minutes after I had asked the last question. I had been busy scribbling down a few brief notes on this mundane patient for the asylum's sake. I wouldn't need any records to go back to while working with Mary Alice because I was physically incapable of forgetting these facts.

I looked up and she was staring at me again, but the look was different because she seemed as though she was staring at my face, not the expanse of white wall behind my head.

It wasn't that I hadn't noticed before, but it was much more obvious now that she didn't appear as an unanimated corpse. She was beautiful for a human. Very beautiful, in fact.

Her chin was little and her nose was skinny. She had miniature elfin ears and a tiny set mouth with full lips. She was extremely lean and almost comically short-possibly from lack of nutrition over the last few years. Her hair had been shaved, but her eyebrows were a dramatic black and arched perfectly on her forehead. Everything about her was just so ridiculously _small_. Except, of course, for her eyes; they were gray-blue and impossibly large for her face.

"How can I explain the question where you can understand, then?" Glad I was finally getting a response, for reasons I didn't understand, I wanted to do whatever I could to keep her talking.

"It's not your words that I am talking about. It's you. All of you. I will never understand grown-ups and it makes you so much harder to see."

I was suddenly struck by how brave she was. She was so young and should have been instinctually terrified of the strange, frightening monster trying to talk to her but she didn't even look fazed. On the contrary, she looked perfectly at ease now, one of her legs swinging back and forth in the air like a cat's tail because they weren't long enough to touch the ground.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look at babies. When babies cry, they cry for one out of maybe five reasons. It doesn't take long to figure out which reason it is and then the baby will stop crying when you fix it. It's all very straight forward. Adults are so much harder see. You make my head hurt when I try to purposely." Her eyes clamped tightly closed and she cradled her pale face in both hands. She looked like she had a headache and I couldn't restrain the comforting hand that froze poised over her petite back.

She flinched at the cold and I wasn't surprised.

Her eyes opened, looking alarmed and strangely … resigned, but then registered with shock when she saw my expression.

For the lack of life in me, I could understand why she was so confused and when I did understand, I was furious.

It was a common place in an asylum for the staff and guard to abuse the patients, especially ones as vulnerable and young as Mary Alice appeared, though I had never engaged in any of those … acts. Even if my hands weren't so impossibly strong and venom didn't run freely through my mouth, rape had never appealed to me. I wasn't attracted to the half alive forms that haunted their black cells, not enough, at least, to use, kill them and have to move on to the next job. It wasn't worth the necessary effort.

"I'm not going to hurt you." I used my best soothing voice and I hoped that I reassured her fears.

"Why not?" She asked, looking totally bewildered. "I can see enough that you won't … but I can't see _why_."

"Simple," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"I don't want to hurt you like they do." I motioned with my chin to the door at my right, indicating the rest of the hospital, and I fervently hoped she believed me. The name "doctor" didn't really apply to the men employed in this building. "Torturers" was a more accurate description. If the girls coming into this place weren't crazy to begin with, they made them insane while they were patients here.

Some of the more sadistic ones liked to play the good friend only to swipe the rug out from under their feet and hurt them later. It made the whole experience that much sweeter for them. With the newest implement of shock therapy, those men were practically jumping with glee at all the new possibilities.

"But _why_?" She stressed the word hugely. "I know you aren't going too hurt me, I get that, but I can't even imagine why you would care."

I stared at her, trying to come up with a better reason, but I didn't have one.

"I don't know. I guess because you don't deserve to be here … But what do you mean when you say 'see'?" I really hadn't had a decent conversation with people I actually wanted to speak to in a long while. I was sorely out of practice with talking to the sane - James hardly fit into that category.

Her chart had said that she was delusional and her loss of connection to reality made her a danger to herself and the others around her, but she seemed anything other than crazy to me. The intelligence that dominated her gaze and her calm composure told otherwise.

"Oh, that's right. They haven't told you." It seemed like she was apologizing for not explaining before, though it didn't make much sense. "I am a psychic. I can see the future … most of the time." She had said the last part eyeing me speculatively.

"Really?" I asked, after a moment. Strangely though, it didn't seem … odd for her. It almost …fit.

She nodded, but her smile looked sad.

"It's why I'm in here," she motioned to the empty room that was used when doctors evaluated their patients one-on-one, like it was filled with gold.

"My parents …" the word twisted like broken glass through her teeth and it was the only time yet she seemed uncomfortable or disgruntled-ever since the thaw; otherwise, she was shockingly serene. It was so strange for a child in an asylum to act so calm. "… They didn't appreciate my visions, but had always dismissed it as luck or even dishonesty. 'Stop telling lies, Alice. Lying is a sin.'" Her voice was shrill and loud and I couldn't help but chuckle at her impersonation.

"When I saw the day my aunt would pass-on a week before it occurred, I was stupid in my hysteria and told my mother, but she didn't believe me. I got sent here immediately after the funeral." She looked at me again. "She drowned, you see, so wasn't like a sickness I could guess or something else I could _lie_ about. It terrified them."

"You're not crazy." I told her after it seemed like she had nothing more to say. I wasn't familiar enough with her to know what to tell her after hearing something like that.

She shook her head. "No, I'm not insane, but I'm not normal either and apparently, that's just as bad a crime." She grinned then.

"I don't mind so much. I always knew I would meet you here, though I didn't see this face," she patted my hand twice and was shocked at the contact, "until just a few minutes ago. So I don't have it that bad." She shrugged lightly.

I froze. I didn't want to tell her this - I didn't want to even _think_ it - but I had to. It wasn't fair to withhold my information.

"Mary Alice-" I started.

"Just Alice," she cut me off, "Mary is my mother's name."

I rolled my eyes.

"_Alice_, you … you must be able to see what Doctor Warner has planned for your … treatment."

Electroshock therapy. 'To stimulate the brain to proper function' he'd told me just a few hours before. 'It's only for the poor creature's good' he'd said with a grin.

"Yes," she said without the slightest of cares. "Shock therapy. There going to run a few hundred volts through my brain."

I'd stared at her blankly. It was maddening how calm she was.

"And that doesn't bother you …?"

"No. It's the way things are supposed to be," she said, looking surer of herself with every word.

"It's not. It's shown to make patients lose memory and function. It isn't effective for most that have been tested. That cannot be what's meant for you." She should be doing something fantastic. She should be taken care of.

"It is." Her voice was firm and soothing at the same time. "It'll work out, in the end. I think I was always meant to be something …" her look gave me the ridiculous impression that she could see right into my soul, "… more. I think it's a fair trade off, having to put up with here for a little while for what I get in return." To say I was shocked would be a phenomenal understatement. If I didn't know better, I would have thought that she knew what I was.

"And what exactly constitutes 'more,' my dear?" I said, trying to exude calm like Alice's while she stared at the wall again, contemplating.

"I don't know _precisely _because I can't see you people that well." She waved her hands in my general direction when she said 'you people' and it made me chuckle. "But I can _sense_ that it will be worth it."

She gave me the strangest expression when she released the wall from her attention.

"What?" I asked self-consciously. I was never self-conscious.

"Nothing, honestly. I just thought … Well, I thought you were going to be … _blonder_." She said and a little crease formed in her brow, like there had been a little knot formed in her careful visions.

Her eyes suddenly flashed after a few minutes of comfortable silence and she picked up with the original topic of conversation.

"Oh, and no offense sir, but I don't think a bit of memory loss would be so detrimental to my mental health. There are some things I'd much rather forget before I get out of here, if you don't mind." She was eyeing some of the fingernail scratches on the opposite wall and I repressed a shudder.

Conversation had flowed playfully after that, both of us avoiding painful subjects. It was … nice. It wasn't like lying to the humans around here and having to pretend I was normal. It wasn't like conversing with a vampire-always having to be on edge lest the words would turn to violence. It was safe because Alice was neither.

After a while, discussion became less polite and a little more personal. Well, it wasn't so much a discussion as a rapid firing question round. Alice's gift was entrancing.

"Can you see it? Can you see the end?" I finally asked in hushed tones.

"Yes," she said as she grinned wickedly, needing no clarification as she could see the answer before she had to ask. "But before I tell you anything, I want to hear your thoughts."

"The whole planet will explode into a million pieces like a Chinese fire cracker." I mused with out being serious … while secretly being really serious.

She rolled her exquisite eyes hugely and a laugh came pouring out of her mouth like a chorus of bells. It was delicate and soft, just like the rest of her.

"See. Perfect example as to why adults will never be understood. Why must the world end so violently, hmm? Why can't it simply go as quietly as it came?"

It bothered me slightly, the way she kept on calling me an "adult." I was a vampire. I was fairly certain she had seen that, but she hadn't said the word yet. It was odd and unfamiliar, this feeling of being ashamed of what I am. I had never experienced it before.

But I could see then that she was having a real kick out of playing the ominous fortune teller and I wasn't going to get anymore out of her in that subject. I had one more question though, one of slightly more importance.

"When?" I asked quietly. To humans, I couldn't really see how the when mattered. Their lives were so short, it wasn't of any consequence, but for someone like me who didn't face the obstacle of mortality, the when was of much greater significance. Even as fast as I could move, I couldn't really see a way to outrun the end of days.

"Eh … a while," she said, shrugging her petite shoulders matter-of-factly. It was absolutely infuriating. I glared at her relaxed form and her smile grew much gentler.

"I can tell you … if you really want to know. No one here has ever been half as kind to me as you have. No one anywhere, actually."

I tried looked at her objectively. Her eyes were shiny and her cheeks had flushed slightly. Alarmed, I realized her was going to cry when someone like her never deserved to be sad.

Later, but not much later, I would figure out that right then was that exact moment when I made up my mind. I was determined then, and I didn't need Alice's visions to confirm it for me. With the law abominating Immortal Children, I would have to wait a few more years until she matured, but time didn't matter much to me anymore.

I was going to save her, my patient. I was going to make her _mine_ and no one, not even James was going to stand in my way.

**A/n: *Cowers slightly* You like? **

**Oh, and when Alice talks about "Blonder," she's referring to Jasper (I like to think she had always seen little bits of him.) It's not that adults are unclear either. She has a lot of trouble seeing vampires because she isn't one **_**yet, **_**unlike a werewolf or half vampire that she never sees at all because she never has, nor ever will be one of those. **

**She calls vamps "adults" because that's what she's going to be when she grows up. She can see she's never gunna live to be an adult in the human sense of the word, so she does with what she does know, if that makes any sense.**

**Review loves!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight and I do not own the Bible.**

**Disclaimer number two: If you are offended by a little poking fun of the Christian religion and crude language, this is not an excellent chapter for you. Also note that I don't want any "I hate atheists" reviews. They aren't necessary. You have been warned.**

**PS My reviewers are pure awesomeness.**

I could hear a little girl wailing just outside my door. _Poor Susan_ I thought sadly. _You're far too sweet for this. _Her grand daughter was going to grow up and be a royal bitch someday, but in the meantime, she had to be contented with causing a huge toddler-like scene in the middle of a hospital. It was even worse than having a temper tantrum in a hotel lobby. The kind of thing where everyone else just _stares_ at the awkwardness playing out before them in a place that was made for continual peace and quiet.

"I already told you, I want to go to Beth's birthday party!" I heard the little voice scream. It made me want to cover my aching ears.

"And I already told_ you, _we are visiting your grandmother," the mother's voice was pure poison. "Who knows how much time she has left with us?" she added in a much softer tone.

"I don't care! I don't care, I don't care, I DON'T CARE! I want to leave!" I was surprised the family hadn't tried to exorcize the little fuck yet. I always half expected her head to start spinning and spout projectile vomit every time she came to see her grandmother.

"Lisa," the mother whispered. Her voice was so low, I almost couldn't catch it, but it was threatening too; made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

"Respect. Your. Elders. Or you won't see Beth for such a long time, she will assume _you_ died."

I snickered under my breath. It was probably bad - ok, it was horrible - but I honestly couldn't help myself. I was much, much older than Lisa and I still didn't respect my elders. I'd flaunted that spectacularly just a few hours ago.

See, I'm a little bit more than ill and have never been terribly religious; the whole concept never appealed to me. But poor Susan had not-so-slyly implied on several occasions that maybe I should start going to the little masses the hospital had in the chapel down a couple halls with her. It wasn't a bad idea. If I was on my way to seeing the big man upstairs, I figured it would be smart to work out the kinks in my non-existent relationship with ol' Yahweh. Or Allah. Or Brahma. Whatever you wanna call it.

Besides, I knew the demon child was scheduled to make an appearance in the afternoon and I wanted Susan to have _something_ to look forward to.

Susan had asked the orderly with the nice butt to go grab someone else and wheel us down to the chapel. I really had no complaints right then - the view was fantastic - but I would soon learn that was where the fun would end.

I should have known when that man came out of the door crying. It was a sign just _reeking _of badness. I had never been the most sensitive person in the entire world and tears scared me, especially when they were pouring out of a person with shoulders as wide as he had; the kind where it would appear as though nothing in the world could knock them down.

"Poor dear," Susan had cooed as he walked away without looking anyone in the eye, but then she immediately wheeled around towards the door to the chapel again and pushed forward. I wished I could let things roll off my back like her.

Needless to say, when we where finally settled, I was a little bit shakier than usual. In my jumpy state, I got bored rather quickly and wasn't fully paying attention to the sermon. There was nothing wrong with it, not that I had heard many in my life time, it was just that the pastor had a voice like an air conditioner - not something so boring that made you want to fall asleep, but more like a drone that keeps you up all night.

Susan had nudged me weakly and looked at me with wet eyes. I couldn't understand how she could possibly find this moving, but I was too big of a chicken to say so out loud for fear of my failing health. Susan, I had found out the hard way, could not sit quietly to the knocking of her Jesus.

"Listen," she had whispered in her tissue paper voice. "This is my favorite part!"

I reflexively leaned my head forward, trying to catch it all.

"And so I would like to end today's sermon with a favorite bible passage of mine from Matthew 10:28-30," he began. I was positive his nose must secretly be an airplane propeller.

"Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; fear him rather who can destroy both body and soul in hell. Can you not buy two sparrows for a penny? And yet not one falls to the ground without your Father knowing. Why, every hair on your head has been counted. So there is no need to be afraid; you are worth more than hundreds of sparrows."

The entire room was abruptly filled with obnoxious guffaws ricocheting across the high ceiling. It took my wheezing brain a little while to figure out I was the only one laughing.

It was just so ironic. I mean, _shit_. Did you listen to what he said? _Why, every hair on your head has been counted. So there is no need to be afraid; you are worth more than hundreds of sparrows._ Well, that's great and all - I'm sure the sentiment would have been appreciated else where - but what about those of us who had no hair left. I managed to use one of my hands to stroke the smooth skin of scalp, just to check. Rubbed the place where my eyebrows should have been, too. Nope. Not a single fucking hair.

I had tears in my eyes, so it made it a little bit more difficult when I tried to look around to see if there were any other chemo patients in the chapel. I could see that a few of the fellow baldies had smirks, but some were glaring in my general direction because they couldn't exactly see me with their senile eyes. Most just had their mouths hung open, eyes as wide as dinner plates in shock.

"Well you guys," I had tried to catch my breath to finish speaking, but it was hard. "I guess I'm screwed then, eh? I don't even have feathers!" I had heard a few snorts, but all the smirk-ers started up when I started rubbing my shiny head like a Buddha's belly.

I was chuckling at the memory when Ginger, my favorite nurse, popped into the doorway. I had found her name appropriate from the first time I saw her; she had a smile that reminded me of fresh baked cookies.

"Your daughter just called. Renee said Bella and she are running a little late, but they'll be here within fifteen minutes. How are you holding up today?" she asked while taking out her stethoscope.

"You tell me," I answered cheekily and took a deep breath when I felt the icy cold touch my back.

"Better," she said happily and I wanted to believe that she meant it.

I gave her the normal polite smile as she left the room and got ready for the wait ahead. Fifteen minutes translated to more along the lines of just under an hour in Renee time.

It was a peculiar thing, getting older. The closer to the inevitable end I got, the more I came to accept it, unlike some of the stress heads around here. Death didn't seem all that bad. I mean, billion and billions of people have died before me and I'm sure most of them went through the experience fine. What was there to be afraid of? Time was that way, too.

My appreciation for it had swelled, even if it was just being spent waiting patiently for my flighty daughter to get her ass moving. Each second meant more than it had when I was younger. I kind of liked that feeling; it made me mourn my little time left a little less because each second had more weight.

_Wow_ thought to myself _I'm so fucking deep, I can barely stand it_. Did I mention one of the best things about contracting stage III lung cancer was the pain meds?

Right then, one of the male nurses came into the room, probably going to give me a quick once over before my visitors showed up. I liked this guy. Not as handsome as sweet-ass, but he was so … he acted so normally with people here. For a few minutes, you could forget you were a patient and you could simply be a human being again while talking to Dave. It was really nice.

"Hey there, honey," I said to him quietly as he checked a few of the monitors and sat down in a creaky plastic chair.

"Hello my darling," he drawled while wiggling his eyebrows. "I heard about this morning," he informed me with a significant look, glancing up from a clipboard.

"From whom, may I ask?" I examined my stubby finger nails like this conversation meant nothing to me at all.

He snorted loudly. "Guess."

"Peter?" I tried playing dumb.

He wrinkled his brow deeply. "Has Peter ever said _anything _in recent memory?"

"No."

"Try again."

"Susan?"

"Ha. No. I'm scared of Susan right about now. I don't think she appreciated your little gesture earlier and I shudder to think of her mood after the demon child's visit." He kept his word and shuddered delicately. Dave and I shared a mutual hatred for bratty children, especially _loud_ bratty children.

"You know, she'll be one of those rich, happy ones, though. Big house, hunky husband … Pretty girls have all the luck, no matter how grating the voice."

He nodded absently. "Sounds about right, except you forgot about the part about the husband being _deaf_. Then the picture makes sense."

I was choking out a laugh that sounded very weak next to Dave's strong baritone when I heard the door swing open with more force than the hospital staff even knew how to make.

"Grandma!" A happy, bubbling voice exclaimed.

I saw a petite figure rush forward without a thought and knock lightly into Dave's chair. I closed my eyes when I heard the awful creaking and slipping noise, but was surprised when there was no bump.

I opened one eye experimentally and was very happy to see a deeply blushing Bella being hoisted onto my bed by a grinning David.

"Watch your step, darling," he reprimanded lightly and his voice was affectionate.

Bella was still blushing madly and had her eyes trained to the off-white tiles.

"Ok." Her voice was so small. It made a little piece of me die on the inside from happiness by just looking at her.

"Don't be so shy," he said, lifting up her chin with his index finger. "Lollipop?" and there it was in his hand. The coloring of the candy matched her flushed face perfectly and she hesitantly accepted it into her little round fingers.

"Thank you, Davey," she said brightly and her dimpled cheeks made my heart want to burst.

Now, I'm not sure you are aware, but I have the best grandbaby anyone has ever had. No lie.

She has very dark brunette hair, almost black, but so much prettier to look at because it wasn't nearly as severe. She has expressive, deep brown eyes that could light up so acutely with joy and a pair of plump red lips that reminded me of the Betty Boop I'd had on my lunch box in grade school. Her skin is porcelain, but never looks sickly. It is radiant and smooth.

When she blushes, forget it; she would then have total claim over your soul. May god have mercy on it because it was no longer under your control.

The kicker was her perfect innocence, not a passing faze like most other children, but innocence _was_ her.

I knew it wasn't just me being the loving grandmother, either; just watching Dave and everyone else around her was confirmation of that. She was an absolute angel and nothing gave me more pride than knowing that exactly one quarter of her chromosomes came straight from me. The only problem was that she wouldn't light up the room unless you were looking for the light. Bella liked to stay as far away from the social radar as physically possible.

"Hey Dave," Renee said as she breezed into the room with a huge bouquet balanced with what looked like a few children's books in her hands. I tried to smile genuinely because I didn't know how to tell her nicely that they would just throw the flowers out as soon as she and Bella left. I couldn't have flowers - or more like their pollen - in my room. It made the whole breathing thing a hell of a lot more of a challenge than it already was.

"Hey Ray," David said as he quickly walked out of the room. Something about my daughter made him very uncomfortable and something about that made me think I didn't really want to know.

"So …" I tried to distract myself by turning to the fantastic creature now occupying a small area of my mattress. "What'd you do this time?" I asked, nodding to her elaborately decorated arm cast.

"Oh," she looked at me through her eye lashes sheepishly.

"Well. Ya know. I wanted to read up in our tree like we used to except it would be only me. I needed to carry the book up, too. And I only have two hands." She held up both arms as evidence.

I looked at my daughter and we both laughed loudly while poor Bella blushed and buried her face into my pillow.

After we had contained ourselves and Bella had recovered from her embarrassment, she reached into a light blue pencil box and pulled out a dark green sharpie.

"Will you sign it?" she asked innocently, holding out the marker.

This was my problem … well, the biggest out of the bunch any way. I could have politely said 'no thank you' and I don't think she would have been too offended when I explained that breathing in the fumes from the marker was like swallowing glass, but that's not what I said.

"Sure cookie," I said as cheerily as I could manage and grasped the offending poison in my wasted hand. I couldn't deny her anything, especially when I knew I didn't have much longer to give her these little gifts.

Her smile made it worth it, though.

"Thank you," she said simply.

"So," I said, trying to ignore the way my chest ached now. "What are we reading today?" When I said 'we,' I really meant 'you.' My eyes were getting real old.

_"A_ _Cricket in Times Square_." She sounded excited as she picked up the skinny paperback and her mother sat right behind her, to help her if she didn't know a word.

This is why they came here, every Sunday, at or around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, depending on Renee's mood. Bella came and she would read to me; I didn't need her to do anything else either.

She wasn't perfect - not by a long shot. Sometimes, she had trouble finding a rhythm and other times the words were too big for her to sound out, but she _tried _so hard for me and that made me feel loved. She didn't try to make me happy in my shit poor state because she was getting paid or even because she was supposed to be the capable daughter who was sometimes an adult to be concerned for me in my old age.

Those were both appreciated deeply by me, but it wasn't the same. She didn't care about me out of obligation, but simply because she wanted to. She _wanted_ to.

When she finished the chapter, I clapped my hands and cursed them in my mind for being so weak.

The door slowly swung open then, and wouldn't you know it, but David was standing right there. Stupid ease dropper looked shocked that he'd been caught and it was easy to see that he certainly didn't mean for the door to open.

"I'm going to go now," he muttered as he ran out the door again.

Renee immediately got up as he turned to leave and then looked back at me guiltily.

"Restroom," she had mumbled and followed right after him.

It was kind of obvious that they were fucking, even if I didn't want to admit it.

"Hurry back." I called, even though I knew she would already be too far away to hear it.

I stared at the door a few seconds more after it had been closed. It was really quiet and looked back at Bella to see why.

She was sitting Indian style now, with her head resting on a propped up hand and was concerned, staring at my heart monitor. That had always been her though, for as long as she'd been alive. It was others first, her second, especially when it involved her mother.

She watched Renee like a hawk and worried after her constantly. Lately, Renee had been even more out of it and I think it was at least partially my fault. Or more like my cancer's fault. She was the one having the most trouble dealing with my sickness and that of course affected Bella. It almost made me glad I was going to die soon so I wouldn't have to be a mass producing factory of anxiety anymore.

"Hey Cookie?" Even though I had accepted the whole death thing, that didn't mean that I didn't need a little bit more closure.

"Yes," she turned her head away from the monitor and gave me her full attention. Always a giver.

"I want you to remember something when I'm not around to tell you anymore, ok?" I hated that her tiny face broke, but she handled what I said much better than how Renee would have.

The last time I had picked her from preschool, I had noticed something that had bothered me very much ever since. The entire class was outside on the play ground and it wasn't that the other kids were picking on her or ignoring her purposely. They all looked perfectly polite from where I stood.

And while not everyone was part of a huge mass of little bodies, they seemed to at least have one partner in what ever game they were playing. A friend. I had looked and looked from my spot in the parking lot, trying to locate her chocolate hair when something caught my eye from the edge of my sight.

Bella. On the extreme edge of the sandbox, all by herself. She didn't appear like she was upset by that fact, on the contrary. She was grinning proudly at her little mound of a castle, but even so, the sight seemed … odd.

"You might feel sometimes like you don't belong and sometimes, you're going to fail at things. Nobody ever said life is always easy. But _everyone_ has a place that belongs to them and a someone to share it with. I want you to find your place because you deserve it the most - out of everyone else - and never stop until you do. You understand?"

She nodded her head slowly and her eyes were shiny. I knew she didn't really understand everything I'd said, but I hoped she would remember when it mattered the most.

And maybe I was saying my goodbye at one of my last chances, but that was fine. Just because it was goodbye didn't mean it was the end.

I watched as my daughter came back into the room and chattered happily quietly for a while. I watched the way Bella watched me. I watched her collect her mother smoothly and kiss my cheek when visiting hours had ended. She patted my hand lightly, but not carefully like everyone else, and gave me a genuine, light-up-the-room smile.

_No_ I thought to myself. _Not the end by a long shot_.

**What do you think? Mildly cute? Funny? Horrible? Any thoughts?**

**Oh, and just so you know, I really tried to do my research for this one and not just stock it all up to creative license. I went on to the Lexicon and found out that after Renee and Charlie got divorced, Renee and Bella lived in California. Since we get the distinct impression that Renee and none of her relatives are from Forks in the book, I had Renee go to California because she needed help with being a young, newly divorced woman with an infant in her hometown. If I was in her situation, I would want my mama too =) Plus, I thought it would make sense that if said mother died, that would give her incentive to move to Phoenix afterward and the timeline said they moved to Phoenix right around here, where I wrote the chapter. O.k. I'm done now.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: I'm trying to stay away from too many point-of-views from a parent's perspective, but I really couldn't write this and be satisfied with it any other way. Please enjoy :]**

**Disclaimer: Twilight no es mio.**

"Mama!" A frantic voice whispered as I felt my shoulder being shaken. "Mama, please wake up," the small voice pleaded and I hurriedly shook off my exhaustion when I understood.

"What's wrong, darling?" I whispered as I swept up his body into my arms and tried to carry him back to his bedroom and away from my husband's sleeping form. He worked too hard and I didn't want to wake him as well.

"I was so scared," he sobbed quietly into my neck and trembled delicately in my arms.

It was a strange thing, becoming a mother. His pain made me want to panic, but I was composed on the outside because I knew that was he needed to see. Nothing came before him, not even instinct.

When I reached his bedroom door, I expertly shifted his weight to only one arm and gently turned the knob. This wasn't the first time my son and woken me suddenly in the middle of the night and I was almost certain it wouldn't be the last. He tried so hard to be an adult.

'Just like father' he'd tell me, but he was still so small. My brave little boy.

"What happened?" I cooed into his ear as I sat him down on the bed with a huff and walked over to his nightstand.

"I-I had," he continued to hiccup as I hurried to light a few candles quickly without singeing the sleeve of my nightgown in haste. "I had a bad dream." He finally spluttered out and sobbed even harder.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" I whispered as I picked him up again and rubbed his shaking shoulder. His cheeks and eyelids were swollen a blotchy red and his eye lashes shone with tears on the ends like dewdrops with his hair swept in every direction. He was absolutely adorable as he stared at my shoulder, his brow wrinkled in concentration to my question.

It always seemed worse when he couldn't remember what worked him into such a fluster. I would watch him toss and turn as he tried to go back to sleep after he had woken me up and I would pray that he would find some peace from his nightmares.

But when he knew what it was that frightened him, it was easier to coax and soothe him past it - like if he knew what he was up against, it made it easier to defeat.

"I was in the woods …" He started slowly and I watched his face carefully for any changes in his expression. "And there was a pretty girl there, too," he added shyly.

He nodded to himself once and turned to look at me seriously after a few moments of quiet. "Her laugh was beautiful, mama."

"Oh, really? Does my Edward have a crush?" I raised my eyebrow dramatically, trying to distract him from his poor mood.

He shrugged both shoulders and they drooped back down, slowly. He looked absolutely exhausted.

"I don't think I've ever seen her before." He stared determinedly at the wall.

"Do you remember what happened next?" I tried to say as gently as possible after he had lapsed into an unpleasant scowl. His expression was far too serious for his young age and I couldn't stand for him to cry again.

His head tilted to the side and his eyes emanated acute, innocent misery without a sound.

"I couldn't …" He took a deep, unsteady breath. I had never seen a child work so hard on learning to keep their composure like Edward_. _

_Like a soldier_ I thought as he struggled for words and I bit back the stab of pain. The idea of him on a _battlefield_, anywhere within ten miles of a petition of rapid firing guns was petrifying. Unthinkable.

Yet, every time we passed one of those horrid recruitment signs, Edward always had to declare some teasing remark. _'He is family, of course. And one never turns one's back on family, you said so yourself, mother_' he would tell me and point to the poster of his Uncle Sam. That never worried me too much, though. It was in Edward's nature to try to alleviate my tension with dry humor.

No, it was the _hope_ that killed me. The pure, undeniable hope in my little one's eyes at the thought of the uniform and the glory that made my heart lurch painfully, but he always patted my hand reassuringly, without me having to voice any of my worries aloud.

"I couldn't save her. I just couldn't and it was all my fault." His little hands caught his head as it sagged down again and he blew out a calming breath from his mouth.

I lifted his chin with my index finger and looked him straight in the eye - I knew from experience he would only truly listen if I treated his situation as seriously as possible.

"Did you try?" I asked quietly and he rolled his eyes. I think he was trying to cover up the way the seemed to water again, but, then again, the light wasn't very forgiving in the room.

"My absolute hardest." He sounded offended by my seeming lack of faith and I repressed a chuckle.

"Well, if you tried your absolute hardest, I'm sure she'll forgive you next time you see her. If she's a smart girl, she will know that's all she can ask of anyone."

"Do you really think I will see her again?" he asked in total wonder, completely ignoring the majority of what I said.

I pressed my lips together in a line and narrowed my eyes a little, feigning an expression of what I hoped was careful pondering.

"Seeing as you don't know where you remember her from, I think going back to sleep and dreaming about her would be the best way do find out." His answering smile was blinding as he practically threw his blankets away from the mattress and launched himself back onto it until he was lying on his side, facing me.

"Do you want me to stay, since I'm already here?" I whispered, already knowing the answer.

He nodded drowsily and slid over to left side, trying to make room. He allowed his eyelids to flutter close as he clutched the faded comforter to his little body. He tugged it so one corner was held up underneath his nose and heaved in one huge gulp of air before breathing out a frail yawn that settled him even more completely into the bed.

He was without a doubt the most fantastic creature on the planet.

As much as his nightmares and nightly awakenings saddened me to witness, I couldn't find it in me to regret any of it when I got to see this. My little boy wasn't really so little anymore, emotionally or physically - the new, slight struggle it took to carry him the small distance between the two bedrooms had proved that perfectly. Lately, he carried a disapproving set to his mouth when I tried to muss his bronze hair or brushed me away, annoyed, when I tried to help him reach the taller shelves. He didn't like it when I babied him.

And, as selfish as it was, I enjoyed that he still needed me to chase the nightmares away and set his soul at ease unlike anyone else in his life. I liked that I could still calm his fears of things that went bump in the night and I wasn't quite ready yet to lose him to a pretty stranger with a beautiful laugh. I wanted him to stay my baby just a little bit longer.

He peeked one eye open when I still hadn't moved from my sitting position and I moved quickly to lay down in the space he had made for me. He still didn't look appeased when I tried to relax into the bed, so I offered him a lopsided smirk. He narrowed his eye, apparently not convinced.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily with the back of his hands and made a move to sit up while I pushed him back down - I didn't like the light purple bruises starting to form underneath his lids. He really needed to go back to sleep and let them heal.

Edward rolled his eyes at my show of strength and rolled closer to my side.

"I love you, mama," he drawled lazily and kissed the tip of my nose. "Don't worry so much," he added, his assertive voice weak with exhaustion and with that, he lapsed into unconsciousness quickly.

I smoothed the hair back from his forehead -damp with sweat from his previous fear- with the tips of my fingers and let them rest on the apples of his cheeks.

"Oh, my boy, didn't I ever tell you?" I whispered into the air. "It's a mother's job to worry incessantly after her son."

He mumbled incoherently against his pillows and his lips turned up into a peaceful smile. I knew there wasn't going to be anymore scary dreams this night. I'd liked to joke with myself sometimes that if Edward senior and I were two corresponding parts of the same whole, Edward junior and I were matching pieces. It was a good way to explain how my son was in tune to my thoughts all the time.

With my heart a little heavy, I cautiously extracted myself from under the covers - I sensed that I was no longer needed here. I still leaned over, careful to keep all of my weight on my feet, and showered his face with feather light kisses, leaving one last "I love you" on his forehead before I turned to blow out the candle.

I tip-toed back to my bedroom and tried to shut the door with care so it wouldn't squeak half way through. I slipped under the covers of my bed this time, trying to use as much stealth as before, but Edward senior still shifted and wrapped his arms around my waist with a groggy "welcome back, Liz."

"I'm sorry I woke you," I whispered as I stroked the fine stubble starting to sprout on his cheek. He would have to be sure to shave very thoroughly tomorrow morning before we left.

"S'okay," he mumbled and leaned into my touch. "What was it this time?" He was well informed of my and Edward's nightly run-arounds.

"He couldn't save a pretty girl with a beautiful laugh." Edward opened his eyes fully at my sour tone and chuckled.

"Well," he started, knowing my tone well enough that the subject was not open now, at two o'clock in the morning. "Let's hope he gets some rest now. He has a big day tomorrow!" he said with faux excitement and another chuckle.

"Very true." I decided joining in my husband's ever present mirth would be the best choice when I didn't have much control left of the situation.

He sighed, hearing how forced the laugh was and held me a little tighter. "G'night Liz."

---

The Following Day

I was already in the kitchen when Edward junior came bounding down the stairs, looking much, much better than the way I had seen him the night before.

"I'm gunna get some big boy shoes, big boy shoes, big boy shoes! I'm gunna get some big boy shoes with my mama today!" He sang loudly as he sat down at the table with a subtle "thump." He had been singing his little tune to the chorus of _Mary Had a Little Lamb_ this entire week.

"I'm gunna wear a grown up suit, grown up suit, grown up suit! I'm gunna wear a grown up suit like my father today!"

I thought the whole affair was rather silly. I had been best friends with Lucille for as long as I could remember and that had been originally the only reason we had been invited to her baby sister's wedding that was to take place this afternoon. Ethel and I had never been very close and she had never seen my little Edward until two months ago when we had all met at Lucille's home for the formal announcement dinner.

I had known something was amiss when Ethel's eyes had sparkled as she laid eyes on my son.

"Oh dear boy!" she had exclaimed and bent down to kiss both his cheeks, with far too much familiarity for a stranger. I tried my best to hide a smirk at Edward's expression - he did not take kindly to womanly attention in any public area. He had taken to calling me strictly "mother" any time we set foot out of our home.

"Now-" Ethel had cut herself off when she realized she had forgotten my son's name.

"Edward," I told her quietly and my husband had laid a calming hand on my shoulder to ease my growing tension.

"I knew that!" Ethel snapped and turned back to the Edward she had trapped her grasp with a horribly sweet smile. She never had learned when she had over stepped her boundaries and that been one of the main reasons I had tried to stay away from her. It bothered me, the way she was addressing _my_ son like _she_ was his mother. "Edward, darling, would you like to be the ringer bearer at my wedding in two months. I have been planning to ask you for awhile now."

I raised my eyebrows, knowing she hadn't intended anything, and huffed in protest, but watched for Edward's response.

"Why do you want me, miss?" he asked politely and it didn't escape my notice that he didn't even know her name.

"Oh dear boy! Why, you'll look so handsome and grown up in your new suit!" After that, I knew all hope of staying quietly out of the way during what I was sure would be an ordeal of a wedding was lost. Edward idolized his father and he would never deny a chance to dress like him, even for a scary lady.

That left me two months later, walking into town in my _best shoes_ so Little Miss Priss could give her final approval to my son's outfit for her wedding. Edward senior was going to leave work early and meet us at the church, while I took our son to some tacky, overpriced store for his "final fit." Ethel had insisted we keep the suit and shoes at the store so no harm could come to it at either of our homes. "Little boys are so messy and it would be easier to keep it nice and safe here" she had told me. It was ridiculous and slightly offending, but I kept my mouth shut for Lucille's sake.

We walked through the front door and the employees never had to ask what they could help us with anymore; they had all been subject to Ethel's tyranny just as much as I had.

A young man led us to a back room for dressing Edward and it took no time to get him into the suit. I had to admit, he _was_ very handsome and the dimples his proud smile brought out as he took in his reflection in the mirror, made all of Ethel's nonsense worth it. I laughed out loud when I thought how great it would be if my little ring bearer out shone the annoying bride on her own wedding day.

Edward grasped my hand tightly and pulled us along, back to the front so he could finally wear his "big boy shoes." Ethel had insisted the expensive shoes would fit perfectly and wouldn't even allow him to try them on, saying he would scuff them if he tripped.

She really should have listened to me.

"But mother, I like them! I feel absolutely fine!" He protested and brought his knees up to his chest so he could cradle the shoes in his hands. They were far too small and his face screwed up when the employee had started to lace them. He was clenching and un-clenching his fists to hold back the pain.

I sighed and turned to the employee, cursing Ethel under my breath.

"Do you have a larger size?" I asked without much hope. Edward wasn't wrong when he went on and on about his big boy shoes. The shoes he wore had to be specially shipped in by the store because they didn't normally sell any children sizes for the style.

He gave me an apologetic smile. "I can bring out the smallest men's size and see how it fits." Really not left with too many choices, I agreed - Ethel's wedding was in a few short hours. I leaned down to do the task of getting the puny shoes off his feet amidst the whispered protests of "Really mother," "I like them a lot," and finally "Please mama! I want to keep them!"

In the end, it really wasn't all that horrible. The nice gentleman and I had stuffed the stupid, humongous shoes with cotton balls and receipt slips until Edward was comfortable enough to walk around in them. He waddled like a little penguin as he made his way down the isle, but I got the feeling no body else really noticed.

Edward senior and I chuckled as we heard the hushed approval of those around us. Needless to say, with his triumphant smile, no one paid any attention to the shoes on his feet.

When we finally arrived back at home, everyone settled in for a quiet evening: my husband to his study, Edward to our piano to practice, and I to the kitchen to start the dinner. Just as I nearly finished and was about to call my boys down, I heard an unfamiliar twinkle call from the living room.

I abandoned the food on the counter top and walked as quietly as possible into the source, trying my hardest not to disturb the player. He was hunched over the keys with his brow drawn in concentration. He swept his fingers across the keys so the same, soft hum reverberated throughout the house and then shook his head stiffly in frustration.

He continued to struggle for a few more minutes while I stood in the doorway unseen. It was sweet and simple, but strangely unfamiliar and so _sad_. The only pieces Edward knew were the ones I had taught him in the last few months of lessons. Astonished, I realized Edward was trying for the first time to compose.

"Hello mama," he turned and said after the echo of the last note had hung in the air. I hadn't known he could see me from his angle.

"What was that, Edward?" I asked, curiosity peeking. He saw my awed expression and, surprisingly, snickered.

"I told you it was beautiful, didn't I? I just didn't want to forget it, but I don't think it's coming out right." He frowned down at the keys again and raised his hands to the board to try again before I stilled them.

"I think it was perfect." He didn't turn his head from the piano, but I caught sight of half of his shy smile from his profile.

"Yes, she is," he whispered the words so low, I can't be sure to this day if he actually spoke them.

"Can you teach me it?"

He turned and looked at me wide eyed.

"You want _me_ to teach _you_?" he squeaked and grinned when I nodded.

While dinner was forgotten and Edward explained the simple melody to me, for the first time, I thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad when it came time to give him up, so long as it was to the person he wanted.

He still had nightmares after that day, but not nearly so many - dwindling down month by month until they were all, but forgotten. We never did talk again about the pretty girl with the beautiful laughter, but every so often, he would sit down and plunk out the simple notes, that same shy smile on his face from the first time he saw her.

**A/n: I know. Terribly cheesy, but it refused to be written any other way. I put a link up for the closest thing I could find for the little laughter song on my profile - it only really counts for the first forty seconds of the song, though.**

**Oh, and for the shoes bit, totally happened to me. I was a little girl and was oober excited to wear high heels for the first time, but bridezilla refused to let me try them on **_**until the day of the wedding**_** because she convinced herself I would break them. Riddle me this Batman, how do you break a pair of freaking shoes?!**


End file.
